Blue
by Ommallaredpanda
Summary: Vader will not stand by whilst his children are under threat; directly or otherwise. The twins learn a truth, and the most unlikely person saves the galaxy. AKA: I wanted some Vader whump/angst. Get ready to cry on my pain train of doom.


Luke padded silently into the chamber, Leia a few paces ahead, blaster out and ready. Luke's lightsabre hummed quietly as he held it, feeling slightly ridiculous, despite being certain that it was far more lethal than any blaster. Except that it would likely be more deadly to Luke than any potential enemy. Much less someone as terrifyingly _dangerous_ as Darth Vader, whom made full-blown, battle-hardened _veterans_ piss themselves.

But, instead of the supposedly six-foot tall wrecking machine, the room was utterly silent. Leia glanced back at her friend, one eyebrow raised. "They… Should be in here. Sweep the room?"

"Yeah. If they're not here, should we comm _Home One_?"

"Okay."

Their conversation was terse, made so by the palpable threat in the air. Deep in the heart of the Imperial Palace, it would be hard to feel otherwise, even for an average citizen, let alone a pair of high-profile Rebels.

Without having to communicate, the two knew exactly what to do. After all, this operation had been planned for months, maybe even years as far as they knew. There had been so many rumours surrounding it, when it had finally been announced (and even then, only to a select few). Some said that it had been organised by the Emperor himself to drag the most trustworthy Rebels in to torture for information. Others thought it was Vader finally going for the top job; it'd only taken him twenty-odd years, after all. How long could the guy wait?

Luke set off along the left side of the room, sabre humming ominously. There hadn't been much of a point in attempting to sneak in, Leia had reasoned. By the time they got there, the Emperor would have been informed and try to leave. That was why the strike teams had covered every single exit – secret or otherwise, provided from some source they couldn't name, probably some janitor. Luke and Leia were the scare-team, to push the Emperor into running. He was only an old man. It was Vader they were worried about.

Until they passed far enough into the room, a door on the far side slid open, its grandeur utterly forgotten by the sudden, strong _stench_ which slammed through from the door.

Luke heard his friend cough from the other side of the room, just as his own eyes began to water. By some sort of mutual agreement, they cautiously walked forwards, the cold light of the room they were in shining into the darkness beyond. Once they were within a few feet of the foul-smelling entrance, motion sensors detected them, sending light cascading before them.

They had been expecting an empty chamber. Not much left behind, with Palpatine having fled with perhaps half an hour's notice, taking anything he deemed important with him, only to run straight into the specialist teams waiting for him. Perhaps he would leave Vader behind to mop up the mess, but that had been deemed highly unlikely; the Emperor needed his body guard/attack dog.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

The stink was emanating from what looked to _be_ Darth Vader, sprawled across the floor. The iconic cape was across the room, the heavy mass a blot on the plush red carpet. His giant form seemed small without the constant, dominating breathing of his mask.

He was quite clearly dead.

Even without the smell, which had begun to seep from the armour, it was clear he was dead, simply from the _feel_ of it. Luke could tell somehow that Vader was dead. The Force no longer curled about him as it _should_, and instead shied away, a deep sense of loss and leftover… love? Nothing about the situation made sense.

"So… _You_ two are the cause-" The sudden voice dropped off, wracking coughs echoing about the room ominously, making it almost impossible to pinpoint where the sound came from. Luke, however, had the Force, and immediately twisted to stare. "-Of my downfall."

It was the Emperor, which Leia was quick to confirm with a shocked gasp. He looked… terrible was the only way to describe it, really. Even though there was no frame of reference for the man, but he looked incredibly close to death.

The most shocking thing about his appearance was a lack of limbs. Both legs had been removed, leaving charred stumps; evidently removed by a lightsabre. Leia seemed to realise at the same time he did, the two turning to stare at Vader's crumpled body in shock, jumping a little as a bolt of electricity flashed from the downed form.

It _didn't _make sense.

_Everything_ anyone knew about Vader screamed about his loyalty to the Emperor and the Empire. And, as propaganda loved to say; the Emperor _was_ the Empire.

"You two have quite a hold over him." Another cough, his body shaking feebly. "Padmé, always making a mess of things, even after her death. Why did that _whore_ have to create you two?!"

Luke and Leia stood in shocked silence.

The Emperor snorted. "You don't know. Of course; the idiot went against _everything_ we created, for two brats he didn't even know. Sounds just like a foolish _Skywalker_ plan."

Instead of allowing Luke to wallow with the implications of _that_ statement, Leia raised her blaster and stepped forward. "Emperor Palpatine of the Galactic Empire, you are under arrest by the Alliance to Restore the Republic, for war crimes, including multiple counts of _genocide_, among other things."

"Dear, I'll be dead before you can take me into custody." His sickly sweet voice was enwrapped in a grandfatherly tone, which dripped with disguised malice. "Your overprotective _imbecile_ of an Outer-Rim father made sure to that." He gestured carelessly towards Vader's prone form, completely aware of the damage his words would cause.

Leia didn't give him the pleasure of seeing the fallout, quickly setting her blaster to the lowest possible setting and shooting the Emperor. Which was very satisfying, even if it only stunned the old despot.

"… _What_…?"

Leia turned to her friend, attempting to keep her own face calm, hands trembling. Something in the both of them screamed at the truth of the Emperor's words. "It's alright. It's alright." She reached out, fingers loosening over her blaster, allowing it to drop to the floor, and then flicking Luke's lightsabre off, slipping it from his hands. Reaching up to grab his shoulders, the two clutched together. "At least we know we're twins, now."

"I… Yeah. That's pretty cool."

They sat together on the carpet, sinking into the expensive textile.

"He's our father." Luke murmured to his sister.

She nodded. "That _doesn't_ change anything."

"No…"

It didn't take long for the shock to fade away. Their quite unusual predicament didn't allow them to stay still for long.

A beep from Leia's comm broke them both from their reverie. It crackled for a moment, and then Leia thumbed it on. "What's going on? Are you two alright? Vader and old wrinkly haven't appeared yet, guys. Do I need to come up?"

"_No_, Han." She rolled her eyes at Luke, a smile pulling at the twins' lips. Their friend had a habit of mother-hen-ing, whilst also protesting furiously at even the remote _suggestion_ that he was staying in the Rebellion for them, or that he was protective in any capacity, let alone _over_protective. "We're good. Palpatine and Vader are out. We think Vader's dead, but I've stunned the Emperor. We… need some time. I'll comm when a team can come up. Not until then, okay?"

"You got it, Princess. Solo out."

Silence descended again, until Luke stood up. His sister followed him, curiosity lining her brow. "Luke…?"

"He wouldn't have died without a fight. There are no obvious marks to show us _how_ he died, and no one else is in here but Palpatine." Luke arrived at an alcove in the wall, reached in and unfolded the complex security array that had been sneakily installed within. "I'm going into the security recordings."

Understanding, his sister nodded, standing behind Luke to peer over his shoulder as he navigated through the complex network of the Imperial Palace. It took at least five minutes of confused searching before Luke managed to find what they needed, in spite of Leia's back-seat slicing.

The scene that unfolded before them was… unsettling.

Vader knelt, knees aching from the increased pressure. It was another form of torture his Master seemed to favour. The waiting, combined with an increased awareness of his painful prosthetic-to-real-limb joins, created a very specific feeling of helplessness and deference, aimed towards his Master, of course.

He waited for what felt like hours, and likely was.

It didn't matter. Any extra time was welcome; the Rebels would need all of it to infiltrate the building.

He had been planning this for years. Since the Force had hinted at what he now _knew_ was true.

Perhaps five years since the birth of the Empire, Vader had first had his children revealed to him. The Force had seemed to… part. Revealing the two, pulsing balls of light which were his five year old twins. It had taken the utter impossibility of his situation, the Force's insistent doom-and-gloom-ing and the overbearing presence of his Master to stop him from tearing across the galaxy to find them. Since then, the Force would sometimes allow him to sense the two, and Vader would try to discretely take advantage of those scarce times as best he could. It didn't take long for the two to start subconsciously recognising his presence, and they would even reach back sometimes. It was the only thing that had gotten him through the many years, slowly crafting his plan, so that his Master would be caught in a watertight net, which would hopefully end in his death. Preferably long, slow and painful, but Vader wasn't too fussed. As long as the old bastard died and couldn't get a hold of his children, it wouldn't matter.

"Rise, my apprentice."

Vader rose.

"You have been attempting to hide something from me."

Straight to the point, then. His Master had probably realised that whatever it was Vader had planned was coming close to fruition. There was no point in lying. "Yes."

"What?"

Vader tipped his helmet up to stare at his Master. It could only be a matter of days now. The Rebels had no idea who he was, which stopped him having to worry about whether or not this was a trap. He had worked with them for years; ever since he learned his daughter had joined the Alliance. There was no reason for them not to trust him, meaning it was unlikely that the operation would be delayed for any reason other than genuine incompetence. His twins were _not_ incompetent. "It is of no consequence to you."

That was quite obviously untrue.

For his efforts, Vader received a blast of lightning, the electricity arcing through delicate mechanisms and frying the pacemaker lodged in his heart. His Master allowed him the usual ten seconds to recover, in which Vader concentrated desperately, breathing speeding up despite the respirator as his stopped heart caused panic to suffuse him. Before their conversation could continue, he managed to create enough of a shock to restart his heart, which then continued by itself. The pacemaker would need repair, but Vader could probably survive for a day or two without it.

"Do not lie to me."

"Then I shall not tell you."

His Master held up his hands to send another bolt screeching through the air, but pulled up short. "No… You won't. That is… troubling." His entire demeanour changed, face melting into a grandfatherly smile, arms no longer held out in threat, but opened welcomingly. "I am your oldest friend, Lord Vader. I _alone_ have not betrayed you, yet you lie to me?"

A year ago, it would have worked. Because what he said was _true_. But in that moment, all Vader had to do was think of his children to shake off any vestige of belief in the obvious façade.

"Yes."

The poorly disguised surprise upon his Master's face was worth the potential punishment. This, thankfully, did not come.

"No matter. I know of those _brats_ you seem so attached to. They will be disposed of, and you shall no longer be plagued by these weak emotions." His Master smirked, revealing rows of yellowed teeth. "Such sentiments caused your downfall before, Lord Vader."

Such a threat was pointless, and both knew it. Vader didn't rise to the threat, despite what felt like a volcano exploding within him. Again, his Master's posture shifted, betraying shock. It appeared this encounter was not going at all how he had imagined.

If his Master did not know the location of his children, they were safe. And, if Vader, whom had a familial bond with them (something which he felt intense love and pride over), didn't know, then there was no way that his Master could, either.

Both men remained in silence, neither shifting other than to stare each other down.

His Master wore one of his usual robes; a deep black with a hood to cast shadow over the deformed folds of his ancient face. It was an obvious display of vanity, which Vader couldn't help but despise, like many other aspects of the man.

His Master broke first, saying; "You have matured over these past years, my apprentice. It is… unfortunate it came at such a price."

Vader didn't move, remaining stock still, which he knew most organics found unsettling. It may not work on his Master, but it certainly projected the impression he wanted.

It didn't take long for the old man's patience to wear thin. When it came to his many projects acting out of turn, he did not allow any form of rebellion. Unless, of course, he found it interesting enough to continue. Which was how the current situation had arisen.

"You _will_ tell me where Skywalker's offspring are!" His Master stood from his throne, hands rising threateningly, bringing phantom flashes of pain.

"I will _not_ tell you where _my_ children are."

There was silence for a split second before his Master let loose, Sith lightning crackling through the air and burning Vader's skin from the inside out. He collapsed, pacemaker stuttering, sparking and giving up under the incredibly high voltage. The respirator and vocoder followed suit moments later, leaving Vader gasping desperately for breath.

His Master stalked down from the pedestal he liked to keep his throne upon, gait surprisingly lithe for someone so old. "You _will_ tell me."

Vader managed to snort out a huffed laugh, shoving himself up into a kneeling position, grunting as his reopened scars chafed against every possible surface. He then stood, straightening to his full height, towering over Palpatine.

"_No_."

Another arc flung through the three or four metres between them. There was just enough room for Vader to twist out of the way, a vicious grin ripping at his open wounds and ropy scars, transforming his face into a snarl. His lightsabre slapped into his open palm, prosthetic fingers trembling slightly as they tried to cope with partially-fused circuits.

Without allowing the old man to realise what was going on, Vader attacked, only activating his lightsabre centimetres before his intended target. Sidious dodged, entire body twirling as he desperately tried to make room, drawing heavily upon the Force. It was painfully obvious Palpatine had not been expecting this outcome; he had gravely underestimated the Skywalker's loyalty.

Sidious eventually landed from his Force-assisted jump, stumbling as he landed but managing to stay upright. He leant against a pillar momentarily, and then pushed himself upright with a snarl of his own, hands coming up, preparing to shoot yet more lightning.

He managed to get off a single arc, but Vader batted that out of his way, 'sabre humming as it cast dancing light over their opulent surroundings. The one good thing about being subjected to Sidious' torture was that he knew each of his tells, and exactly how long he had between the Sith Master gathering the Force to him and a bolt of electricity being shot.

Sidious seemed to realise his mistake, and his now-uncovered face paled even further. He fled yet again, shoving himself from the pillar, gathering the Force and leaping, spinning as he did so, sending his robes flying about him.

Vader followed, using a tendril of the Force to unclip his own cloak, knowing it would only slow him down and wouldn't offer its usual protection against a lightsabre or Sith lightning, which seemed to be the only trick Sidious wanted to use against him so far. Hopefully, there wouldn't be enough time for the despot to figure anything else out.

Atop the pedestal, Sidious turned to glance back at his rogue apprentice, only to have to bend over backwards to avoid the blade slicing through the air where his head had been. Vader didn't miss a beat, pushing forward with his attack, swinging the blade in a diagonal slice, which would have parted Sidious' shoulder and head from his body.

Instead of this, the Sith Master's red blade blocked Vader's, the two colours mingling to throw a deep, reddish-purple across the room, whilst also blinding Sidious with bright white light. Vader didn't suffer from it, due to his optic lenses, but he felt the Emperor stumble back. He hadn't needed to fight for a long time, and much less with an actual 'sabre.

Again, Vader tried to counter, twisting into another attack, but he didn't get the chance. Sidious flung himself into a backflip, landing in a crouch atop his throne and launching himself off, trading blows with Vader as he passed overhead. Landing on the other side, forcing the cyborg to hastily twist, what remained of his body being forced to move far more than the economic attempts from before, causing blood to start pooling in his body glove. However, as a veteran of Sidious' multiple torture techniques, Vader didn't allow the pain to faze him and continued on closing the distance which Palpatine had so painstakingly put between them.

They traded blows yet again, the Vader's brute force knocking Sidious back, and preventing the older man from being able to hold his own whenever their blades locked. Vader managed to push Palpatine back, until the Emperor's back foot was mere centimetres from the edge of the first step. A quick backwards flip, and the problem was rectified, giving Sidious a moment to breathe, until Vader leapt down after him, relentless.

As they fought, the Skywalker accumulated multiple wounds. Despite his evident lack of preparedness, Sidious was a skilled combatant. If he had not been forced into such a close-range battle, he would have undoubtedly won. However, that was not the case. He still knew detailed plans of his rogue apprentice's prosthetics, allowing him to target places which were vital to limbs functioning.

By the time Vader eventually managed to gain enough of an upper hand to end the fight, his arm prosthetics were utterly destroyed, and only operable through extensive use of the Force. Every last part of his suit's circuitry had been blown out or sliced open and he could no longer breathe.

Sidious could sense this, through the cold shreds of their Master-Apprentice bond, and sent a fierce shove towards his apprentice through the Force, bowling him over.

Vader collapsed yet again, entire body numb from adrenaline and exhaustion. He only just managed to keep hold of his lightsabre, but allowed it to deactivate, concentrating furiously to flick the activation button through the Force, despite his pain and weariness.

For the first time since the start of their fight, one of them spoke. "You should _not_ have defied _me_, foolish apprentice," Sidious said.

He stalked closer, eyes shining with triumph. He could feel the pain in Vader, and seemed to take that as genuine defeat. "Your rebellion is put down, and you shall show me where the pitiful Skywalker children are, and you _will_ watch as they die, screaming. Perhaps you'll learn if it's _them_ I drop in lava."

Vader did not react, far too close to his goal to allow his exploding emotions to jeopardise it. From his position on the floor, he could only see Sidious' shiny black boots and, as the slaver came closer, they blotted out anything else. An armour weave robe, similar to Vader's own cape, wouldn't stand up under the power of a lightsabre.

Once the shiny leather surface was perhaps thirty centimetres from Vader's helmet, he struck.

Because of his disabled prosthetics being quite limp (Vader had prepared for this eventuality, and oiled all the moving parts in his mechanical limbs), they could extend to their full length. His inability to do so usually was one of the many "accidental" flaws worked in by Palpatine. Without this stiffness, Vader could move far faster than he normally would and reach further too.

He shoved himself up with one arm, whilst the other strained against his socket to chop off Sidious' legs, just below the hip.

The thud that followed brought the older man onto Vader's level, quite literally.

The two were sprawled on the plush carpet, blood splattered and drying over it already, Sidious' two wounds beginning to cauterise and stop the bleeding within seconds. And then, the shocked face transformed into one of pain, accompanied by a strange cross between a whimper and a scream.

It was a disturbing level of satisfying for Vader; to see his torturer and slaver contort in the agony he had been forced to endure uncountable times.

Once the Emperor had emptied his lungs with hoarse screaming, he twisted onto his front, throwing up, spilling his undoubtedly exquisite lunch onto the deep red carpet. He then let out another gasped whimper, which shifted his new stumps, causing himself to vomit again, bile dribbling down his chin, mixing with tears.

"You… Should not have underestimated my… _love_… for my family." Vader rasped, despite knowing that his slaver could not hear him.

Last lungful of oxygen used; the edges of Vader's vision began to darken. It took quite a while for his life support system to completely give up; it would occasionally pump more air into him, enough to draw out the long process of death by suffocation.

Sidious, moaning, and leaving a dark trail of tears, sometimes blood as his new cauterised stumps tore open and vomit, dragged himself away. It took perhaps half an hour for the old man to reach his throne, and at least an hour for him to claw his way onto it.

All the while, Vader watched helplessly, only the sporadic moments when his respirator worked stopping him from dying. Instead, he was starved of air, each time only saved from death by moments. He watched as the hated Emperor crawled across the room, crying and moaning in pain, brought low.

Eventually, just as Palpatine began to claw his way into his throne, torso flopping pathetically, Vader's breathing stopped, eyes frozen unseeingly into the distance, his last thoughts turned towards his children, begging the Force for their safety. That he had done enough to protect them.

Luke and Leia stared down at the screen, aghast. It hadn't been a lie, and Luke could feel tears coursing down his face. They were not for Vader; at least he did not think so, but ones of shock.

His sister shakily brought her comm to her face, flicking it on after a couple of tries. "Han…?" Her voice wouldn't have betrayed anything to anyone else, but the smuggler knew.

"Corellian Hells, what happened? Are you two okay?" He spoke softly, despite the tone. "I'll come up there and beat the crap out of whoever-"

"He's dead." Leia replied, swiping tears from her face.

"You sure? I can-"

"Han, he's dead. Has been for three days, it looks like." She managed to keep her voice from trembling. "Vader's dead, but the Emperor's alive. They… I'll tell you when you come up. You can see the footage."

"Yeah, okay. I'll be up in a sec. And, you might want to know; it was a success. It _worked_! We control _everything_ and the Empire is already going down. Whoever planned all this out saved our asses; almost the entire Navy has defected to us under the command of a guy called "Piett"… I'll see you two in a minute. Just hang in there."

"Alright, Han."

Luke suddenly turned, walking slowly to the body of his father, and then knelt down, Leia glancing at him confused.

Looking back up at her, he smiled reassuringly. "On the holo, his 'sabre looked… Odd." Luke turned back to the armoured body, trying desperately to not breathe at all, trying desperately not to recall those last few twitches before Vader's life sign had sputtered out.

Reaching out cautiously, Luke prised the hilt from his father's gauntleted fist and held it up, flicking on the blade to reveal a deep, and purplish blue.


End file.
